


Gladstone

by consultingbluebell



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Gladstone the Dog, M/M, Older John, PWP, Smut, Spanking, Sugardaddy!john, Uni!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2647679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingbluebell/pseuds/consultingbluebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is working as a dog-sitter to earn extra cash for university, and while he watches Gladstone, Dr. Watson's little dachshund, he decides to conduct a bit of research on the doctor, in the form of sneaking into his bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a sugardaddy!john fic for the longest time, so I'm so glad I finally finished one. This is probably the most smut I've ever written in one sitting, and I'm still getting used to writing it so apologies if it's a bit off.

Sherlock was in Dr. Watson’s flat, pacing restlessly over the carpeted floors, trying to think of _something_ to occupy his mind until he got back. Gladstone, the doctor’s little dachshund, was fast asleep in his dog bed, as usual.

When Sherlock had thought of being a dog-sitter to earn extra money while in uni, he imagined it to be a bit more exciting than this. He thought it might be good for him to actually play with the dogs, or possibly do some experiments on fetching and tricks. Instead, however, he was met with dogs that didn’t do much other than sleep or drool, leaving him bored out of his skull and watching way more crap telly than he liked.

This was Dr. Watson’s- well, John’s flat, though, so it at least had a far greater amount of interest than most. For one thing, the place was spacious and clean with top of the line appliances, a large, comfortable sofa and a big, warm fireplace. Sherlock knew the good doctor would never flaunt it, but he was certainly doing well for himself.

Sherlock stomped over to the flat screen television and glared at it as if to challenge it to entertain him. Nothing happened.

He looked at the mantelpiece where nothing sat atop it, not even a framed picture of Gladstone, and wrinkled his nose in distaste. It was hateful; there was virtually nothing in the flat that told Sherlock any more information about John.

Ever since Sherlock had started watching over the doctor’s dog a few weeks back, he’d been fascinated, as well as utterly and undeniably attracted to John. He could tell right away that the feeling was mutual, but he could also tell that John was holding back on purpose, trying to be professional and keep his distance. Sherlock loathed that distance; he wanted to get as close to John as physically possible.

Suddenly, Sherlock was hit with an idea. A bad idea, most likely, a very bad idea, but at the same time, so deliciously good.

Sherlock was going to go into John’s bedroom.

*

Sherlock knew that he was crossing a line here; John had allowed him access to everything in the flat, even telling him that he could have a kip in one of the spare bedrooms if he’d liked, but there was an obvious and unspoken courtesy to not go into his bedroom.

Well, Sherlock thought, perhaps what John didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Sherlock slowly pushed the door open and crept inside, flipping on the light switch to reveal a devastatingly mundane scene: a neatly made bed, some practical furniture, a few books and a laptop.

Simple. Plain. _Boring_.

But Sherlock just knew that the doctor was more interesting than this, he knew by the conversations that they’d had before that John was so much more than how he appeared on the surface. Underneath his cashmere jumpers and fitted blazers, there was an ex-army doctor with a thirst for adrenaline, and Sherlock wanted so badly to be what quenched that thirst.

Sherlock took careful steps towards John’s dresser and grinned mischievously before pulling open the top drawer.

“Perfect..” Sherlock whispered to himself as he looked at John’s neatly folded pants.

He reluctantly closed the drawer and snooped through John’s bedside table next, finding a healthy supple of lube and condoms in the top drawer. Sherlock’s face flushed with heat at just the thought of John using the lube, lying across his bed, his hand working up and down his shaft- oh, it was a delectable thought, but he didn’t exactly want to be sporting a massive hard-on when John got back.

Sherlock moved over to the wardrobe and slowly slid out the bottom drawer, his eyes widening as he stared at the contents. His heart was racing in his chest as he eyed the impressive collection of sex toys; dildos, vibrators, plugs, even a riding crop.

“I knew it,” Sherlock grinned triumphantly, having had deduced this side of John fairly early on, and finally the proof was staring him right in the face, if only—

Oh. The door to the flat was opening.

John was home early.

Sherlock’s first thought was to scramble to close the drawer and rush back to the sitting room and act natural, but instead, he stayed right where he was.

He heard John step into the sitting room and put his bag down.

“Hello? Sherlock?” came John’s muffled voice.

Sherlock didn’t plan on answering, though. He was going to let John find him going through his most private things, and if the doctor fired him and threw him out on the street right away, well then Sherlock had clearly miscalculated something, because he knew, he just knew that John wouldn’t be able to resist a conflict like this.

“Sherlock, you in here?” Sherlock heard John tapping on the bathroom door and even heard a faint confused grunt escape John’s lips.

Finally, as Sherlock was examining one of the plugs, he heard John approach the bedroom door.

“Sherlock, are you—“ John stopped dead in his tracks when he opened the door to the sight of Sherlock kneeling in front of his wardrobe, casually admiring the toy in his hands.

“Evening, Dr. Watson.” Sherlock drawled, trying not to smirk.

“What the— what the bloody _hell_ are you doing?” John stomped into the room, stopping just before where Sherlock sat.

“Apologies, doctor, it seems my curiosity’s gotten the better of me.” Sherlock said as he calmly placed the plug back into the drawer and slid it shut before standing to face John.

“You must be joking.” John snapped, his voice already tinted with anger. “Who gave you permission to be in here?”

Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head, looking suddenly bashful.

“No one, sir. I was— I was simply curious. I know it was wrong of me, but I couldn’t help it.” He bit his lip, thinking that technically he was telling the truth, but feeling a rush of guilt, thinking maybe his master plan to seduce John wasn’t as good of an idea as he’d thought.

“I trusted you into my home, to respect my privacy, and you violated that trust. What do you have to say for yourself?” John asked, clenching his fists.

“I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“Is that all?”

“And it’ll never happen again, sir.”

“No, I trust that it won’t, because now I don’t even know if I should let you back into my home again. What do you think I should do, hm?”

Sherlock thought for a moment. He could either try to explain to John what he wanted, or he could take a risk, to just get straight to the point and let John know _exactly_ what he was thinking.

“Punish me.” Sherlock said.

“I’m sorry?” John spat, his face alight with shock, but, as Sherlock noticed, the tiniest bit of excitement.

“You heard me.” He asserted, feeling more confident that John wanted this as well. “Don’t think I didn’t see how your pupils dilated when you saw the toy in my hands. That and the fact that you’ve been licking your lips twice as often as you normally do since we’ve been talking.”

“No. We’re not having this conversation.” John shook his head, smiling bitterly.

“Which one? The one about how attracted you are to me or the one about how many fantasies you’ve had involving me and your riding crop?”

“Stop it. Now.”

“Or what?”

“Sherlock, you’d do well to listen to me right now.” The doctor’s voice as charged with energy that Sherlock could no longer call anger. No, John was practically glowing in the rush of adrenaline.

“Why? What are you going to do? Spank me?”

John let out a short laugh and turned his head to the side. He cleared his throat and, to Sherlock’s joy, tried to hide his smile.

“Alright, fine,” he conceded, his voice just a hair calmer. “You know that I’m attracted to you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m far too old for you—“

“Oh, please.”

“Or that this conversation is completely inappropriate. Your job was to watch my dog while I was away at my conference, not snoop through my belongings, understand?”

“One, you’re not too old for me. Two, I apologize for rifling through your things, and three, I am not naïve nor am I innocent,” Sherlock took a step closer, easing his way into John’s space, “and I…would very much like to kiss you, if you would let me.”

John glanced down at Sherlock’s lips and licked his own.

“Right. So you…you really want to do this?”

“ _Yes_ , sir, please.”

“You wanted me to see you going through my things just to get me all riled up, didn’t you?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Ooh, you’re a bad man.” John whispered, grinning a little. He stepped even closer to Sherlock, just a breath away from him. “Tell me, Sherlock, what else would you like to do?” he asked, his voice softer, lower, a little bit rough.

“Sir..” Sherlock sighed, a twinge of embarrassment in his voice.

“Go on, you’re so eager. Tell me.”

“Alright. I…I wasn’t joking, before…I would, er, quite like it if you were to punish me, sir.”

“Mm. Punish you for what exactly, Sherlock?” John had now adopted a curt military tone, making it clear that their play had most certainly begun, and Sherlock wanted to dive in head first.

“For…for being a bad boy and going through daddy’s things.”

“Fuck.” John cursed. “Sorry. God, the things you do to me…but you’re— god, you’re gorgeous; you could have _anyone_ , and—“

“And I want you. Please, Dr. Watson… _daddy_ , teach me a lesson.” Sherlock must have flicked on some sort of switch in John because suddenly the doctor crowded into his space, threaded a hand through his hair and _pulled_.

“On the bed. _Now_.” He growled into his ear.

Sherlock could not have appeared more eager as he rushed over to the luxurious king-sized bed and crawled on top of it.

“On your front.” John ordered, and Sherlock obliged immediately. “Good boy.” John praised, the words like heaven to his ears.

The doctor sidled up to the side of the bed and looked down at Sherlock.

“Now, before we go any further, I need to know your safeword.” He said.

“Nitrate.”

“Good. And don’t hesitate to use it, understand? I’m all for a bit of play but I do not want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. _Please_ , John.”

John didn’t hesitate any further as he sat himself down next to Sherlock and placed a warm hand on Sherlock’s skinny jean-covered behind.

“God, you’re eager. And so beautiful. But you’ve been bad, haven’t you, Sherlock?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“And naughty boys get punished, don’t they?” he asked, beginning to rub his hand over his arse, teasing.

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you think, then? Five good smacks ought to do it.”

“ _More_ , sir, please. I’ve been _so_ bad, daddy.”

“No, Sherlock. You’ll get five for now, and you’ll thank me for every single one, is that clear?” John clipped.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Let’s get these off, then.” He quickly tucked his hands underneath Sherlock’s waist to undo his zipper and pulled down his jeans as well as his pants, but only enough to expose Sherlock’s pale cheeks, unmarked like a crisp blank canvas.

“Fuck, so gorgeous.” John breathed. He placed a hand on Sherlock’s cool flesh, smoothing over the surface. “Ready?”

“ _Please,_ daddy.” Sherlock begged, just wanting John to get on with it now that they’d _finally_ started. He was almost about to urge John to hurry up when the doctor’s rough, calloused hand came smacking down on his bare flesh, a resounding _thwack_ filling the room.

“One. Thank you, sir.” Sherlock said, absolutely loving the residual sting of pain.

Not even a breath later, John’s hand came thundering down again, no doubt painting his alabaster skin with beautiful blotches of red.

“Two. Thank you, sir.”

Suddenly, John moved from behind him, and Sherlock found himself face to face with John’s hand.

“Lick.” John ordered.

Oh, god, _yes_ , Sherlock thought. He leaned forward and eagerly lapped at John’s palm, knowing that the wet skin would make his hand stick more and therefore be even more painful.

“Good boy.” John moved back to his position and didn’t wait before slapping down his damp, sticky palm, an almost comical _slap_ cracking through the air.

“Th-three. Thank you, sir.”

Another slap, harder that time.

“ _Oh_ , four. Thank you, s-sir.”

Finally, John delivered one last good smack to Sherlock’s arse and held his hand there to squeeze it.

“ _Five._ Oh, god, thank you, daddy- sir, thank you.” Sherlock stammered, now gripping the shits with white-knuckled fists and his hard cock beginning to leak.

“Mm, such a good boy, taking your punishment so well. And what’ve we learned today, Sherlock?”

“N-not to go through daddy’s private things.”

“That’s right, love. Very good.” The doctor smoothed his had gently, over Sherlock as if to rub the pain away.

“Does it hurt?”

“Stings, sir.”

“You want daddy to kiss it better?”

“Oh yes, daddy, please.”

“Of course, baby.”

John leaned down by Sherlock’s plush arse and planted slow, loving kisses across his skin. He left open-mouthed kisses and small, tentative licks before laying himself down so that he was next to Sherlock.

“Better?”

“So much.” He sighed, as if he’d just had a huge weight lifted off his chest.

“I’m glad. Come on now, give daddy a kiss.” John smiled, leaning forward.

Sherlock met him in the middle, their lips pressing softly against one another’s.

“Surely you can kiss better than that.” John teased. “Go on, Sherlock, show daddy what you can do.”

Sherlock took the challenge right away and tilted his head to avoid smashing noses as he crushed his plump lips to the doctor’s thin ones. He licked the seam of John’s lips, not needing much permission before invading his mouth with his tongue.

John wrapped his hands around Sherlock’s jaw and held him in place as they kissed, creating filthy wet smacking sounds with each press of lips.

“Mm, fuck, yes.” John panted. “Suck my tongue.” He ordered.

Sherlock almost came on the spot at the raggedness of John’s voice. He opened his mouth to allow John to thrust his tongue in and leaned up to suck it back into his own, bobbing his head minutely as he sucked and loving the feel of his own saliva dripping from his mouth and down his chin. John pulled back and tucked his head into Sherlock’s neck so he could press wet kisses all the way up to his ear.

“So good, baby. You taste so good. I want you in my mouth. I bet you’re so hard for me.”

In lieu of answering, Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and dragged it down to reach his hard cock still halfway trapped underneath his pants.

“Ooh, bossy.” John chuckled. “Flip over.”

As Sherlock turned over to lie on his back, John reached to grab a condom and bottle of lube from his drawer.

“Gonna make you feel so good, Sherlock.” John assured as he tore open the package. He looked to where Sherlock was already stroking his straining member and licked his lips hungrily.

Sherlock watched with bated breath as John squeezed a small amount of lube into his hand and let out a short gasp as he coated Sherlock’s cock with it, making nice and wet before he rolled the condom on.

John knelt down between Sherlock’s legs and took his cock into his hand.

“Oh, daddy.” Sherlock sighed blissfully.

He had to bite down on his hand to keep from screaming out when John wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and slowly sucked the rest of him down.

John used his hand for what his mouth couldn’t reach, and his clever tongue danced across the slit, making Sherlock moan and arch his back in pleasure.

“Mm, so lovely.” John said as he came up for air, his mouth still tantalizingly close to Sherlock’s cock. “Come on, let me hear you.” He took Sherlock back in his mouth, going as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck, daddy…your mouth, it’s so good, so hot,”

“Mmm,” John hummed. He looked up at Sherlock through hooded lashes as he sucked him mercilessly harder.

“Oh, god, s-so good…”

John rubbed his hand over Sherlock’s naval and down his thigh and continued to suck and lick and tease.

John hummed around him again, the buzzing sensation sending chills through his veins. The doctor then gave one last hard suck before quickly removing the condom and sitting up so he could squeeze his hand tight around Sherlock and stroke him at a relentless pace.

“I’m-I’m close, sir, please.”

“It’s alright, love. Just let go, I’ve got you.” He soothed.

Sherlock had to bite his lip to at the sight of Dr. Watson, of John, always so polite and professional, now being absolutely filthy, pumping his cock in his fist, twisting on the upstroke; it was the best Sherlock had felt in a long, long time.

“Come for me, baby. Come on,” the doctor cooed, looking him right in the eye.

“D-daddy,”

“That’s it, my gorgeous boy, be good for daddy. Let me see you come,”

“I’m, I- _oh_ ,” Sherlock breathed as his body convulsed and he came all over his belly, some catching on John’s hand.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it.” John gently stroked Sherlock as he rode out the rest of orgasm. He leaned over to his bedside table where he grabbed a few tissues and cleaned off Sherlock’s stomach and softening cock, wiping down his hands as well.

John tenderly tucked Sherlock away in his pants and pulled up his jeans for him, as the boy lay utterly limp on the bed.

“Alright?” John asked, rubbing soothing circles on Sherlock’s hips.

“Mm, more than. Thank you, daddy- er, John.”

“It was my pleasure, love.”

Sherlock looked to John’s trousers, noticing that the man had a sizable erection trapped beneath the fabric.

“But, you didn’t, er…I could, um,”

John glanced down at his tented trousers in understanding and smiled.

“It’s alright, Sherlock, you don’t have to. I don’t want to overwhelm you when you’re all tuckered out.” He teased.

“What about, erm, can I watch, sir? Please,” he licked his lips at the thought of watching John get off in front of him, and John seemed to like it too as his cheeks flushed bright red.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He agreed.

Sherlock moved over a bit to make room for John to lie down next to him on the bed. John looked at him as he unzipped his trousers and shuffled them down a little. He palmed himself for a moment, taking in short gasps of breath with every spike of pleasure.

“Kiss me.” John said, turning his head to Sherlock’s.

Sherlock happily pressed his lips to John’s and reveled in the feeling of John’s uneven breaths blowing cool air over his mouth.

“Mmm,” John moaned, having now taken himself in hand and begun to stroke. “You like that?” he asked. “Like watching your daddy get off?”

“So much, daddy. You’re so _big_ ,” he couldn’t help but point out.

“Oh, fuck. Keep talking.”

“I love watching my daddy please himself. Am I helping to please you, sir?”

“Mm, god yes, baby. Just having you here is enough…god, all the times I got off thinking about you, your arse in those damn skinny jeans…fuck,”

“Tell me more, daddy. What else did you think about?”

“I thought about, oh, shit, I thought about, well, I could show you, if you like.”

Sherlock’s heart leapt in his chest as he tried to guess what he might be thinking.

“Please, sir, show me.”

John grinned and stopped his movements to lean up on his elbow. He grabbed weakly at Sherlock’s thin shirt.

“Take this off.”

Once Sherlock’s shirt had been tossed carelessly to the side, John knelt beside him and stared down at his chest.

“You can tell me to stop at any time, don’t forget.” John reminded, and then, he got a leg over Sherlock’s torso and straddled his chest, gripping the headboard with one hand for balance. “I want to wank here and come all over your chest, baby, would you like that?”

Surely that was a rhetorical question, Sherlock thought.

“ _Yes_. Do it, daddy, I want to feel your come on me.”

John began stroking again right away, and if Sherlock had a shorter refractory period, he would’ve been getting hard again as he watched John touch himself so _close_ to him, feeling every pump of John’s fist and the odd comfort of being trapped by John’s legs on either side.

“You’re so gorgeous, Sherlock…I might not last long if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Then I won’t stop, because I want to feel you come all over me, sir, rub you into my skin,”

“ _Shit_ ,” John cursed. He was leaking a generous amount of precome, and looking down at Sherlock’s pert, pink nipples, he got an idea.

John moved over just a fraction so that the head of his cock hovered over Sherlock’s nipple. He rubbed himself over it, smearing the precome over the sensitive bud.

“Oh, daddy, fuck!” Sherlock almost shouted. He loved any attention to his nipples, always so sensitive, so this was like heaven.

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Y-yes,”

“Such a filthy boy, so sensitive,” John moved and gave the same treatment to the other nipple, stroking himself faster.

“M’close, love,” John panted.

Sherlock watched as John backed up so he had room to finish himself off. He pumped himself even faster and let out the most delicious wanton moans that Sherlock had ever heard.

Not a moment later, Sherlock felt John’s warm spurts of come hit his chest, the liquid pooling in his sternum.

“Oh, fucking hell,” John sighed as he came down from the high of his climax.

It was Sherlock that time who grabbed some tissues and wiped John off. The doctor let Sherlock tuck him back into his pants just as he had done earlier, both of them still panting with blissful exhaustion.

“God, that was amazing.” John declared, popping down to give Sherlock a quick kiss.

“It was…thank you, John.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You were fantastic, Sherlock. Let’s get you cleaned up now though, yeah?”

Sherlock nodded happily.

“Be right back.” The doctor clamored off the bed and came back a few moments later holding a wet flannel.

John took his time, lazily wiping the warm cloth over Sherlock’s pale skin, and Sherlock could’ve sworn he’d never felt more loved and taken care of than he had in that moment, basking in the light of John’s affections.

When they were both all cleaned up and fully clothed once again, they cuddled close atop the covers, John holding Sherlock securely in his arms.

“John?” Sherlock asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes?”

“I really am sorry for coming in here. Would you…would you still want me to watch Gladstone?”

“Of course, Sherlock. I know I was angry at first, but I suppose I understand your motives a bit better now.” He chuckled. “Plus, you’re the only one who seems to be able to teach that dog any tricks. The little brat still won’t even sit for me.”

Sherlock smiled and tried to nuzzle back even closer to his doctor.

“Maybe he just likes me better.” He joked.

“Like hell,” John protested, giving a playful swat to Sherlock’s bum.

“What about…this, what we did tonight, would you ever like to do it again?”

John squeezed Sherlock tightly in his arms and put his mouth right by the boy’s ear.

“Oh, god yes.”

* * *

I actually kind of want to write more about John and Sherlock and Gladstone all living together or something lol. Let me know if you'd like me to continue this or if you have any advice as to how I could improve :)

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your comments and encouragements, it means so much!! A handful of you said you'd like me to continue so I wrote a short little chapter, it's a bit fluffier but I couldn't resist the image of Sherlock, John and Gladstone cuddling on the sofa :)

It was edging on midnight when John heard frantic knocking on his door. He had been lounging on the sofa with Gladstone, dozing off every now and then, but the knocking certainly snapped him out of any drowsiness.

Gladstone shot off the sofa and rushed to the door, barking weakly at the nighttime intruder.

“Hush, you. We’ve got neighbors, y’know,” John said as he walked over.

John didn’t even think before opening the door since he had a good feeling as to who it would be, and sure enough, there was Sherlock, standing on the other side but looking nothing at all like his usual self. His eyes were red-rimmed and watery, his hair a wild, ruffled mess and his arms wrapped protectively around himself.

“I-I know it’s late,” Sherlock stammered, “I’m sorry, but I—“

“Jesus, Sherlock, come in. You must be freezing.” John held an arm out to lead him inside, keeping a steady hand on his back as they walked to the sofa. Sherlock’s lightweight sweatshirt would’ve done nothing to combat the cold on his way over, and John could practically feel him shivering.

“Sit down, love. I’ll get you some warm clothes. Are you hurt at all?” he asked, making sure he wouldn’t need to make a trip to A&E.

“N-no, I’m fine.” Sherlock continued to hug himself and shiver lightly. John frowned and went to fetch his warmest jumper as quick as he could.

“Here, you can wear this, and if you’re still cold, there’s some afghans in the closet.”

The doctor handed Sherlock a thick, grey knitted jumper and watched as he pulled it on, shaking his hair like a wet dog after getting it over his head. The jumper was much too big for him but would definitely keep him warm.

John sat down next to Sherlock and patted the cushion to encourage Gladstone to come join them.

“Come on, boy. Look, Sherlock’s here, your favourite babysitter.” He joked, hoping to get a bit of a laugh out of Sherlock.

Gladstone happily leapt onto the sofa and plopped himself in Sherlock’s lap, but the brunette only petted him half-heartedly and avoided eye contact with John.

“Sherlock, c’mon, tell me what happened.” John encouraged.

John had told Sherlock that he could come to him for anything, tell him anything, any time he needed. He’d been seeing him on a fairly regular basis ever since the night that their attraction to each other had come to a head, but they had taken things a little slower after that, John feeling like he wanted to get to know the boy a bit more.

“Tonight I was- there was a…I didn’t—“

“It’s okay, Sherlock. Just breathe. You’re alright.” John comforted.

Sherlock took a deep breath and attempted to sit up straighter, but still avoided looking John in the eye.

“There was a party. Normally I wouldn’t have gone but I’ve been so _bored_ ,” he grasped his hair and tugged at it as if to rip it out. John gently eased Sherlock’s grip off of his curls and placed his hands back in his lap.

“Okay, there was a party. Did something happen there?”

Sherlock shook his head. “Nothing happened. But they were- there was—“

“S’alright, just say it.”

“There were drugs. Cocaine. They offered me some.” Sherlock admitted. John knew that Sherlock had struggled with the drug a while back, but that his brother had put him into rehab and he’d been clean ever since.

“Okay. That’s okay. And what did you do?”

“I didn’t take it. But I- I was so _tempted_ , John. My mind is so cluttered, crammed, overflowing with information and there’s so much _noise_ and I want it all to go quiet, I can’t stand it—“

“Hey, hey, shh,” John soothed. “It’s okay. And you’re still feeling overwhelmed?”

“Yes, and I didn’t know what to do until I realized…I realized that everything goes quiet when I’m with you, so I came here.”

“Oh, Sherlock, c’mere.” John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and brought him in for a tight hug. The boy was a little hesitant before bringing his arms over John’s shoulders and holding him in return. “What do you need?” John asked.

Sherlock leaned back and tucked his head into the crook of John’s neck.

“I need…I want…can we just kiss for a while?” he asked, staring up at John’s lips.

“Will that help? We could just watch telly if you like, or I’ve got soup in the cupboard if you—“ John was cut off by Sherlock pushing himself up to cover John’s lips with his own. The doctor moaned instinctively at the sensation of that soft mouth against his, but he had to make sure that Sherlock wasn’t going to be using sex as a coping mechanism from now on.

“Hold on, love,” John said, sliding his hands through Sherlock’s curls and scratching gently. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“ _Yes,_ John. I…I need to feel you, please, I need this.”

“Alright, but don’t forget to stop me if you start to feel—“

“Yes, yes, I know, now _please_ kiss me.”

The doctor smiled and dove right in to claim Sherlock’s lips. He could taste notes of tea and honey; Sherlock loved honey, and he brought up a hand hold Sherlock’s jaw so he could properly explore his mouth with his tongue.

Sherlock moaned in pleasure, the sound sending a jolt of heat through John’s veins. Not wanting to overwhelm him, John slowed down their pace to lazy touches of lips, almost chaste kisses, taking their time savouring the taste of each other.

It wasn’t long, however, before Sherlock got a little impatient. He broke their kiss to suck John’s earlobe into his mouth, biting a little.

“Oh, fuck,” John breathed. Sherlock obviously took that as permission to heat things up even more and quickly moved down to the spot just below John’s ear, the one he knew always drove the doctor wild. He licked and kissed and sucked at John’s neck, the moans escaping the man’s mouth doing wonders to melt away the restlessness he’d felt before.

“Shit, Sherlock, you’re gonna make me—“

“Make you what?”

“Mmm, you’re gonna make me hard, pet.”

Sherlock grinned, licking his lips. He continued suckling at John’s neck and moved his hand down to the doctor’s trousers, palming his cock teasingly.

“Maybe that’s what I want…daddy,” he whispered huskily in John’s ear.

“Fucking hell. That’s what you want, then? You want to be a good boy for daddy right now?” John asked. He realized that maybe entering this headspace could be just the distraction Sherlock needed, a way of escaping the real world for a while.

“Yes…can I…can I suck you? I want to make my daddy feel good,”

“Jesus, Sherlock. Such a naughty little thing. Just…just take things slow, yeah?”

“I will, daddy. Promise.”

John groaned and let his head fall back against the sofa. He looked to Sherlock’s lap, thankful that Gladstone had decided to scurry off somewhere.

“Come on, then,” John encouraged, slowly unzipping his trousers.

Sherlock went back to kissing the hell out of John while reaching into John’s pants and gently pulling out his half-hard cock. He stroked and kissed until the doctor was fully hard and panting heavily.

“Go on, get daddy nice and wet, love” John said. He replaced Sherlock’s hand with his own and stroked himself a few times, spreading the precome with his thumb.

Sherlock leaned down and licked his lips before pressing a slow kiss to the tip of John’s cock. Before John could even let out a moan, Sherlock was giving the head tentative licks, sliding his tongue along the slit.

“Oh, that’s it, such a good boy.” John praised.

Sherlock took the encouragement and wrapped his gorgeous lips around John’s cock, sucking gently, teasingly, letting any excess saliva that built up in his mouth drip down and make John even wetter.

John let out a delighted sigh and cupped the back of Sherlock’s head, lightly nudging him to take him further.

“Fuck, so good, Sherlock. So good for me,”

Sherlock hummed in response and took John deeper into his mouth, sucking and undulating his tongue every so often.

“Mm, fuck. That’s it, take it,” John panted, trying with all his might not to buck up into the delicious, wet heat of Sherlock’s mouth. He grabbed a fistful of the boy’s curls just to have something to hold onto, holding tightly enough to keep Sherlock in place but not hard enough to hurt him.

Suddenly, Sherlock pulled off and looked up at John, his tongue still lapping at the head of John’s cock.

“Please, daddy,” he said, “Will you…will you pull my hair?”

“Would you like that? You like daddy hurting you a little?”

“ _Yes_ , please, sir.”

Sherlock went back to his ministrations, taking more of John’s cock into his mouth with every suck. John eagerly granted Sherlock’s request and pulled on his thick curls, definitely hard enough to hurt a little. Sherlock positively _whined_ in pleasure as John tugged on his hair.

“God, you love daddy’s cock in your mouth, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” Sherlock moaned. He bobbed his head up and down, his hair getting tugged with each move.

“Suck harder, love, be good for daddy.” John said. He lightened his grip on Sherlock’s head and watched his cock slide in and out of that gorgeous mouth over and over, the sight easily pushing him closer to climax.

“Fuck, m’close. You want my come on your face or in your mouth?”

Sherlock pulled off to answer. “My face, sir, please,” He begged, immediately going back to sucking and stroking John’s cock, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Oh, you’ll get daddy’s come all over that pretty face of yours, then. Now get on your knees.” John took his cock back into his hand and pointed at the floor in front of him with the other.

Sherlock practically jumped off the sofa and onto the floor, putting his face as close to John’s cock as he could.

The doctor looked down at Sherlock’s parted lips, rose red from kissing and sucking, and beautifully wet. He stroked faster at the thought of painting Sherlock’s skin with streaks of his come, making his face glisten just like his lips.

“Oh, oh, shit, _fuck_ ” John cursed. “Gonna come, love. I’m gon- _oh_ —“ John moaned as he watched his come land on Sherlock’s face, watched it drip down to the seam of his lips, Sherlock’s tongue darting out to lick it up.

“God, you’re _such_ a good boy for me. So fucking sexy,” John breathed, still out of breath from his orgasm. He took Sherlock’s face in both his hands and leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, tasting himself. He turned Sherlock’s head and lapped at the come on his cheek, then dove right back into the boy’s mouth, feeding him his come.

Sherlock surged forward and wrapped his arms around John’s neck, his tongue working wildly inside John’s mouth, wanting to taste John as much as he possibly could.

After a few more moments of intense snogging, John slowed things down and pulled Sherlock onto his lap, tucking himself away and zipping up his trousers. He grabbed some tissues and wiped Sherlock's face off for him.

Sherlock put his head into the crook of John’s neck where it fit perfectly, like he and John were just meant to fit together. John rubbed his back soothingly and took a few minutes to let both of them catch their breath.

“How are you feeling, love?” John asked softly, hoping he hadn’t done anything to aggravate Sherlock’s previous restlessness.

“I feel _fantastic_ ,” Sherlock sighed blissfully. “My mind went so quiet, and it’s still quiet. Thank you, John.”

“I keep telling you, Sherlock, you don’t have to thank me. I’m always here for you, whatever you need. Plus I’m pretty sure that was mutually enjoyable for the both of us, yeah?” he smiled.

“Mm, yes. I love pleasing you, love watching your reactions…”

“Well I’m glad I’m so entertaining,” he joked. “What about you, though? Did you want me to—“

“No, John, I’m quite alright. I feel relaxed, now. And…tired. I’m never tired. That’s odd.”

John gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ve had a rough night. Why don’t we put on a film and cuddle for a bit, hm?”

“That sounds nice.”

“Great, Bond film it is.” John chuckled and patted Sherlock’s bum to let him know to move off his lap so he could get up.

A few minutes later, Sherlock and John were huddled together under a blanket on the sofa, Sherlock half asleep on John’s chest and Gladstone half asleep next to Sherlock. John watched Sherlock dip in and out of a sleepy haze, making endearing little noises every now and then. He could get used to this, he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :]


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